


Laurens' Last Goodbye

by arc3es



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alexander Hamilton - Freeform, Alexander Hamilton/John Laurens Angst, Angst, Angst and Feels, Elizabeth "Eliza" schuyler - Freeform, Ghost John Laurens, I'm Sorry, John Laurens - Freeform, Laurens Interlude scene, M/M, Musical References, Sad Ending, sad shit, sorry again for writing sad shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:40:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28369272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arc3es/pseuds/arc3es
Summary: “On Tuesday the 27th, my son was killed in a gunfight against British troops retreating from South Carolina.”Basically, my written version of the Laurens Interlude scene.I planned on posting this in August on the anniversary of Laurens' death, but better late than never. Enjoy some sad Lams! I'm not sorry for writing this lol, I hope I didn't ruin your day.
Relationships: Alexander Hamilton/John Laurens
Comments: 3
Kudos: 30





	Laurens' Last Goodbye

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to  @sweeterthanlove  for beta-reading it! I watched tons of Laurens Interlude animatics one day during the summer and felt inspired, so here we are. Enjoy the angst, I can guarantee a non-happy ending! ((:

_"It is sweet and glorious to die for one's country."_

_John watched Alex sit behind his desk as he was just about to start on a new letter._ Alex looks so calm and at peace. I wonder what he’s thinking about? _John thought. Alex dipped his quill into the ink pot and started to scribble down the first few words of the letter. The corner of his mouth curled up in a small smile as he hesitantly lifted the quill from the paper, as he was thinking of how to proceed with the letter. The warm light from the candle on top of his desk danced on Alex’s face in an alluring way._

_John couldn’t refrain from feeling delighted to see Alex’s smile again, although the happiness was quickly replaced with the heavy grief and sorrow he carried. Wasn’t it supposed to be light and easy on this side? Maybe he wasn’t there just yet._

_John knew there were things that he’d left unfinished after his sudden departure. He hadn’t meant for his story to come to an end yet. So much to do and his time was already up. John thought sadly that there were a lot of things he couldn’t fix or change now; it truly pained him. He had to leave it up to the next generation. This was something else though. John would never have been able to bear with his own existence—wherever that may be—if he left Alex like this. He wanted a chance to say goodbye._

“Alexander? There's a letter for you from South Carolina.“ He hadn't heard Eliza coming through the door. His mind was too occupied with composing the next lines of his letter.

“It’s a letter from John Laurens. I’ll read it later,” he said, his voice full of warmth. Finally, a response from his dear friend. He couldn’t let Eliza read it. That would cause too many questions with no good answers. He heard the quiet blowing of a wind in the distance which almost sounded like whispers.

“No. It’s from his father.”

“From his father?” He’d never received a letter from Henry Laurens before. What could this be about? Alex got a strange feeling. He couldn't shake off the feeling that something was wrong. A dreadful feeling crept up on him. Had something happened to John? Had he been hurt? No, Laurens might be reckless but he knew how to fight. He couldn't have gotten hurt. Alex tried his best to convince himself that everything was okay but the worry still clawed in his heart. Mr. Laurens probably had some official matters to discuss. Although, he couldn’t bring himself to read the letter by himself.

He put down his quill, he hadn’t gotten far with the letter, just a few words. Alex turned his head around to look at his wife.

“Will you read it?” A gentle breeze brushed his face, like the breath of a silent voice. Where did the wind come from? At this time all of the windows were supposed to be closed. He shrugged off the thought as Eliza carefully opened the envelope. She unfolded the letter and started reading:

“On Tuesday the 27th, my son was killed in a gunfight against British troops retreating from South Carolina.”

_No. It can’t be—_ Alex had to reprocess Eliza’s words multiple times in his head before the meaning of them fully hit him. Something broke inside him. His thoughts started to spin. No, this can't be happening. Every second that passed felt more and more surreal. As Eliza continued reading the letter she put a comforting hand on his shoulder, as if to anchor him to the ground in the world which was now falling apart piece by piece. He turned his head back to the desk and looked down on the unfinished letter: “ _My Dear Laurens_ ,” the words read.

Alex covered his mouth with one of his hands. His view was dimmed with tears and a small sob escaped him. He watched as his tears fell down and formed small blotches on the parchment.

“The war was already over,” Eliza continued, her voice steady. “As you know John dreamed of emancipating and recruiting 3000 men for the first all-black military regiment. His dream of freedom for these men dies with him.”

Everything they’d fought for over the years. Everything his dear friend had fought for. John’s legacy would die with him— No, his death wouldn’t be the end of his revolution. Alex couldn’t let John die in vain. He recalled what John would always tell him: “Tomorrow there’ll be more of us.” There would be more people who joined their cause, they weren’t alone in this. John had always been confident that the movement would continue, even without him. Dying for an honorable cause and your own country was the glorious death John had wished for.

During the few late nights when John had managed to tear Alex away from his work they’d lay awake in their cots, speaking till they fell asleep. It scared Alex when John spoke in such a way. He’d look deeply into John’s eyes and tell him that no matter how glorious his death might be it’d never be worth it. “My dear, you will not die and leave me. Never speak like that again. I don't care how glorious your death would be, I can't lose you.” His voice had been shaky with fear. It scared him how easy John spoke about dying. How little he seemed to care about death.

He couldn't lose him back then and definitely not now. Had John’s recklessness become the death of him?

At the time both of them thought of death on the battlefield, fighting for one's country as an honorable one. Back then Alex had believed every word but right now it felt as if John had been the embodiment of this movement. He felt as he was once again alone, fighting for his survival, like he did during his childhood on the hellish island he grew up on. All that was left now was empty words and promises of a brighter future that would never arrive.

“Tomorrow there’ll be more of us…” a somewhat familiar voice echoed. Alex jerked up his head. Was he making it all up in his head or had he suddenly heard the exact same words that had been playing on repeat in his mind spoken aloud?

Alex felt something on his shoulder—almost like the soft touch of a hand. He saw something flicker in the corner of his right eye. He turned his head to the side but there was no one there. Had the voice come from there? That couldn't be right. Alex was sure he’d seen something shimmer and he’d definitely felt another hand on his shoulder. The hand, which had been ice cold, had still somehow spread a small warmth through his numb body.

He flinched when the much warmer hand gave his shoulder a light squeeze. He’d forgotten that Eliza stood behind him with a hand on his shoulder. “Alexander. Are you alright?”

No, he wasn’t alright. Would he ever be alright again? For once in his life he had no reply; he was silent. Alex didn’t know what to feel anymore. He would never hear the lively voice of his reckless and sweet friend again; his laughter full of warmth; his beautiful smile; the way his face used to lighten up with passion whenever he spoke about his thoughts and ideas of abolishing slavery.

Where were all his emotions? The devastation was replaced with an apathetic numbness. This had to be worse than feeling anything. He felt like an emotionless, empty shell. He wanted to feel something so he’d know that he was still alive. But how could he be alive when the biggest part of his life had died with John? He was dead inside.

He gently put his hand on Eliza’s and said, in an indifferent voice he didn’t recognize:

“I’ve so much work to do.”

Eliza hesitated a moment––she was probably worried about him. Oh, he didn’t deserve his beautiful wife. All she’d done for him—and what did he give her in return? He loved Eliza, but there was a big part of him who’d always long for and love his dear Laurens. She left him alone in his office with one last glance over her shoulder. Alex was grateful; he needed to be alone now. He couldn’t let her see how much pain he was in.

The candle on top of his desk had almost burnt out. All that was left was a small flickering flame; a tiny glowing light in the dark room. Only when the sound of Eliza’s light steps faded away he let himself break down. A wave of pain washed over him. Alex covered his mouth with one hand while silent tears started falling down his face. He was sobbing violently in silence now, his whole body shaking.

Alex felt someone put their hands comfortingly on his clenched fist which rested on top of the desk. Was Eliza back? He hadn’t heard anyone enter the room though. This hand was once again surprisingly cold and sent shivers down his spine. Through his tear dimmed view he could make out something that was shimmering in the corner of his eye. He looked up from his letter and almost choked on a sob.

The familiar face he’d missed for such a long time was now looking right at him with eyes full of sadness. Alex couldn’t believe his own eyes. This must all be happening in his head, he must be hallucinating. But John’s face looked so real, except the fact that he was slightly transparent with a glowing outline. His outline was flickering and glowing just like the small dying candle flame on his desk. Was he seeing the spirit of his best friend? No, this had to be a trick of his own mind. But the touch of his hands felt so real…

He figured he couldn't care less. Imagination or not, he was just happy to see John’s face. The hands were strangely cold—nothing like John’s usual warm touch. Regardless, he felt as if he somehow could feel John’s presence through the cold. Oh, how he missed his dear friend.

His other hand shook as he put it on top of John’s. Yes, he could clearly feel the soft skin of his friend. Alex tremblingly stroked his thumb over one of John’s hands. The hundreds of freckles he’d spent hours counting were still where he remembered them. Some of them reminded him of the star constellations which were visible through his office’s window.

He moved up his gaze to meet John’s eyes. He tried to open his mouth to say something but he was at a loss of words.

“Alex,” John whispered quietly in a sorrowful voice. The beautiful sound of his friend’s voice brought him to tears again.

Alex didn’t speak. This was beyond what words could express. A cold hand cupped his cheek and wiped away a tear. He mustered himself to move his gaze to meet his dearest friend’s. Even though they were shining in an eerie way, almost lifeless, Laurens eyes still seemed to have a small spark of life in them.

“If only I’d had more time. My time’s up, my dear boy. I wish I could've done more…” Laurens gaze focused somewhere far away and he looked like a big burden weighed down his shoulders.

“This is a goodbye, but not my last.” Laurens locked eyes with Alex again and smiled sadly. “I’ll see you on the other side.”

“Wait, no!” Alex exclaimed. “Please, Laurens, don’t leave me.” He clutched one of Laurens’ hands desperately. “How can I ever go on when I know you’ll never return from the battlefield?” He said, his voice as broken as his heart was.

Laurens just smiled sadly at his dear friend and leaned down. He placed a gentle kiss on Alex’s lips, his lips cool as a winter breeze. Alex closed his eyes and reached for Laurens’ face with one of his hands. His fingers touched the cool skin of his fallen friend, a few seconds later the cold lips were gone from him and his fingers fell through empty air. His eyes fluttered open just in time to see the candle on his desk burn out and die. The darkness filled the room and he was alone. He broke down on the floor in quiet tears and let the night swallow him.

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I know, it's not really a "last goodbye" but that sounded much better than just "goodbye". Please leave a a comment and tell me what you thought!


End file.
